


stupidity and teenage hormones (working title)

by jae_hhoney



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Don't smoke, Enjoy!, I tried ok, Its dangerous, Life Is Strange Spoilers, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, This is Bad, delinquent jisung, everyone else is lowkey soft, i tried to worm in norenmin but i done fucked up, jisung smokes, just weed tho, they live in cali lmao, this is so rushed its disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jae_hhoney/pseuds/jae_hhoney
Summary: absent parents and no social life to speak of is never fun, but then again Jisung's expectations were lowered years ago.or, Jisung's life goes from worse to worser ft. emotional repression and lack of common sense





	stupidity and teenage hormones (working title)

**Author's Note:**

> this is bad and took FOREVER but yeah it's finally done and btw that's not the working title. don't smoke kids!

"Look, ma'am if you wanted a quote, unquote "good" employee, you should've gone to Jeno," Jisung drawled, not once looking up from his phone.   
  
The lady might've said something back, but frankly Jisung didn't give much of a shit. His uniform was chafing, the edible was kicking in, and he couldn't be bothered to deal with white suburban moms whose husbands were cheating on them, and were probably as high as he was.   
  
Just a normal day at Cherry Bomb Bowling. Better known as Jisung's own personal hell.   
  
Five minutes, and an angry woman who's probably named Karen, later Jeno was glaring at him.   
  
Jeno was one of two people Jisung could look at without immediately wanting to throw himself down the alley in hopes he never got back out of where ever the bowling pins went.   
  
Jeno was a senior, and two grades ahead of him, but shorter, and possibly when of the sweetest people you would ever meet. Jeno was all bark, and no bite, but no bark either because he's soft spoken, and even if you wronged him chances are the most he would do is glare.   
  
Jeno is intelligent, and a student athlete, and basically perfect in every way shape, and form, and Jisung can still not begin to comprehend why he tolerates Jisung's general existence when he could have half the student body falling at his feet.   
  
"Jisung, can you please stop throwing the angry white ladies at me," Jeno grumbled, continuing putting shoes back in the cubbies.   
  
What a good employee, Jisung can't relate.   
  
Jisung laughed and continued scrolling through his Instagram feed. "Jeno, let's be honest with ourselves for a minute, the only time that's happening is when I become a halfway decent employee. And that's never happening."   
  
That didn't even require a response, because it's objectively correct.   
  
The bowling alley itself reeked of shoe freshener, hot dogs, and sadness, and Jisung probably contributed to the last part himself seeing as he had to drag his ass down to work here at least three times a week. The multicolored, mosaic style carpet, and grainy screens that flashed scores above the tables reeked 80s summer nights aesthetic. Which was overdone and slightly pretentious in the I wish I was born in another generation way that Jisung loathed with the entirety of his being.   
  
To be perfectly honest, Jisung wasn't sure why his parents forced him to work here. They said they wanted to teach him a sense of responsibility and to not be a disappointment to this family, but in reality this consisted deflecting the anger of people with no lives, and stacking shoes in the correct cubby. Only one of which he did well.   
  
"Jisungie! Jeno!"   
  
And then there was Moon Taeil. The other person Jisung actually liked at his job. Moon Taeil had been the manager here for a good five years, and was the only human being over the age of twenty that didn't want to asphyxiate Jisung. Taeil was a bit off kilter, and took the job even less seriously than Jisung himself, which he deeply respected.   
  
It was tough to meet your job with anything but apathy, and slight amusement at the fact that people actually thought you gave a shit when you work two part time jobs, and are a full time college student and walking human clusterfuck. Taeil's words, not Jisung's.   
  
Taeil had figured that Jisung has smoked on the job when no one else was around seeing as the air around him was permanently tainted by the smell of cigarettes. But the one time he actually caught him it was finals week, and he was running off four redbulls, and a pixie stick, and his only reaction was giggling, yelling blaze it, and then realizing it wasn't a blunt.   
  
Taeil was really the only adult that treated him like an equal and not just a problem, so maybe, but just maybe, he appreciated him. Quite a lot. Despite his pitiful sense of humor, and social awkwardness, and annoying ass boyfriends, Taeil was a great guy.   
  
"Hey, hyung!" Jeno yelled back, while Jisung gave a nod and soft smile of acknowledgment. He had to keep up appearances as local gay ass delinquent. Taeil jogged over to the shoe desk with a kilowatt smile, and his mouth already spouting what Jisung deduced was whatever he was so enthusiastic about.   
  
"You'll never guess what happened," Taeil practically shouted.   
  
"I'm finally fired, and my suffering has ended," Jisung deadpanned, at the same time as Jeno said, "Tell us, hyung."  
  
Taeil took a moment to compose himself, before continuing with bright eyes. "So you know how I just graduated, right?"   
  
Both boys hummed in affirmation. Jisung wished he could obliterate the video Taeil posted of Yuta and Sicheng kissing him in his robe and cap from his memory. He's happy Taeil is getting laid regularly, but he'd rather not see that. Ok maybe it was a bit sweet, but he'd never admit it aloud.   
  
Taeil was practically vibrating at this point, and Jisung was moderately scared he was going to implode if he didn't spit it out. "Well," Taeil began, as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, "I finally got a paid internship with SM!" And for once Jisung was the first one to say something positive.   
  
"That's amazing, hyung!" Jisung said, grabbing Taeil's shoulders over the counter. "I'm proud of you," he said with a genuine smile.   
  
Jeno congratulated Taeil in the same manner, and the oldest looked like he was on top of the world.   
  
"It's crazy," he said breathlessly. He ran a hand through his hair, and tried to get a grip on himself, but his smile never faltered. "I guess I never really thought I would get this far, you know? And I just quit this shitty job finally."   
  
Jisung's smile fell faster than his heart plummeted to his stomach.   
  
The thing Jisung became acutely aware of in that moment was that those who seemed sterile, or devoid of emotion, were usually the most human among us. Those whose emotions stayed locked behind steel doors, were the ones who had breakdowns behind wooden bathroom ones at midnight. They hide their emotions because they have too many, and they're frightened of vulnerability. It's all very convoluted.   
  
Jisung would know, he's one of those people.   
  
Jisung shut his mouth, and painted on a half sincere smile, because contrary to popular belief he cares about people. Maybe a bit too much. And some people didn't deserve to get swept up in his bullshit, and the same people deserved to be opened up to, but Jisung always had issues with that.   
  
Taeil's smile dropped. "I forgot to tell you didn't I?"   
  
Jisung just played with the cash register, if only to keep his hands busy. "It's fine, we've all been caught up with shit."   
  
_Get it together, Park._  
  
Jisung gave his best nonchalant smile, and douche bag counter lean, and plastered on his I'm an asshole teenager, so this isn't a big deal to me look. "It's all good, hyung." 

 _You're leaving me, of course it's not all good._  
  
By this point Jeno had wandered off to do his actual job, and the guests had slowly dwindled. It was the point right before rush hour, so he'd have to make this quick. Jisung pulled out his cigarettes, and pulled Taeil along. "I'll never find another manager that let's me smoke on the job you know."   
  
_I'll never find another manager like Taeil._

 _Or rather, I'll never find another Taeil. Not that I want to I like this one quite a lot._  
  
   
Taeil didn't respond to that. He sat leaned against the grimy walls right outside Cherry Bomb with a dazed look. It wasn't unusual for Taeil to space out, weird motherfucker, but this time he had a wistful look, and Jisung was becoming aware of the lump in his throat, and the dread in his stomach, weighing him down. Gloating at him. In the end he could never hide how he felt, and he needed a distraction from the surmounting evidence of it.   
  
The flick of a lighter, and a drag from a cigarette.   
  
The orange of the sunset, and November wind blowing through hair, and blowing the embers, and smoke away too.   
  
"You really shouldn't smoke that, Jisungie." Taeil chastised softly.   
  
"That's hypocrisy, hyung."   
  
Guilt washed off Taeil in waves, and it was a shocking juxtaposition from the mirth he gave off earlier. "I should've stopped you, I should've tried. I don't need you giving yourself lung cancer. You're too young for this."Jisung cast a fond smile over his worry wart of an ex-manager.   
  
Over the two years Jisung had known Taeil a lot had changed. Taeil was one of the only constants in his life. The most he ever varied was hairstyle, and his ever caring nature was present no matter the scenario.   
  
"Put out the cigarette, Jisung."  
  
"But-"   
  
Taeil turned to him with pleading eyes. "Listen to your hyung for once, brat. If you're gonna cut work, we may as well do this goodbye correctly." And Taeil tried to do the whole tough love thing, but the thinly veiled emotion in his smooth timbre gave him away. Jisung obeyed, just this once, ash and paper underfoot, and eyes trained on them. "W-will I ever see you again?" He asked quietly. He didn't trust himself to speak in the best of times. Certainly not now. Not with Taeil's stupid soft eyes, and stupid caring nature.   
  
"Oh Jisung, of course you will. I'm basically your older brother by this point, and I always visit family," Taeil said. "Plus, you have my number. Not even another continent will stop me from annoying my favorite dongsaeng," he tried to joke. But his smile wasn't as bright.   
  
Jisung had kept silent, seeing as he wasn't a man of many words. And when he did speak it was usually crass things aimed at angry customers, angry parents, or one hit away from stoned Jaemin.   
  
"I'm gonna miss you. So fucking much, hyung."   
  
He pulled a shocked Taeil into a hug, that was soon reciprocated. As a general rule, Jisung didn't touch people.   
  
But desperate times called for desperate measures.   
  
"You're my favorite hyung, you know? And I'm happy for you. I'm happy you get to live your dream, and I'm happy you'll get to make out with your boyfriends, and annoy others in a different continent. And I'm definitely happy you're getting away from Trump," he said with a watery giggle.   
  
Jisung, like in everything else, was a quiet crier. No one would've guessed he was if it wasn't for his wet cheeks, and shaking shoulders. And he's secretly glad he could hide in Taeil's shoulder, because he still could never accept the fact that people could actually see him in a vulnerable state.   
  
Taeil detanged himself from Jisung gently, and grabbed his shoulders with steady hands, and earnest eyes.   
  
"Jisung, I know I wasn't always the best hyung," he started, Jisung protesting immediately, only to have Taeil hush him. "But I hope I've helped you these past two years. Now listen to me, and look at me. Take care of yourself, text me, behave yourself. I promise it'll get better," Taeil said. "I'm always there for you. I don't give a shit if I'm right next door, or in fuckin' England or something, I will be there for you no matter what."   
  
The goodbye seemed to last a millennium and a millisecond all at once, in the way important moments do.   
  
And without Taeil there, soft, but strong, Los Angeles seemed to swallow Jisung whole, while his worries ate him from the inside, and maybe this was the universe's way of saying to learn to deal with his shit.  
  
But that's enough emotion for about three years.   
  
And if Jeno noticed the scarlet nose, and eyes, he didn't mention it. 

* * *

  
The thing about Jisung was that when he was angry his common sense, and word filter went on vacation. As soft spoken as he could be, it didn't show at school too often.   
  
He's not sure why the teachers bother anymore, why they haven't learned that if they treat him like a problem he's going to give them one.   
  
They brought this upon themselves, but then again his parents certainly didn't help.   
  
Jisung met their disapproving looks, and lectures on most aspects of his person with a frankly concerning mix of apathy and annoyance, that they were unaccustomed to. And maybe Jisung wasn't actually that bad. The most he would do is mouth of to a disrespectful extent, and abstain from doing his work.   
  
His parents had put him in pretentious, top of the line private schools from a young age, so in comparison to the general student body, Jisung seemed like literal, genuine Satan. Most of his peers were well behaved, mature, centered students that never did anything wrong. Well, Jisung had caught quite a few of them doing things labeled wrong, so perhaps they're not quite so different after all. The only way they vary is that Jisung does his morally incorrect thing shamelessly, because at this point his parents probably expect it.   
  
And maybe Jisung gets a sick sort of satisfaction, and amusement out of it. The smallest things he does gets out of proportion reactions, and really that's what he was going for.   
  
He's not particularly surprised, or even upset about the fact that office workers recognise him, and that the principles office is practically his second home.   
  
"Hello for the third time in two weeks, Mr. Park."   
  
He and the principle were mostly friendly. In exchange for not giving him a hard time, Jisung got an adult that didn't treat him like he was a ticking time bomb.   
  
The principle was a young, slightly frazzled man who really, genuinely tried his best, and was a mess anyways. And was probably very gay because let's be real, what straight man wears sweater vests? Mr. Lee was a kind individual, and Jisung appreciated his presence at this school, because if it weren't for him slightly twisting the events of what happened when speaking to his parents Jisung would've been shipped over to Korea already.   
  
"Hey, Taeyong."  
  
"Don't call me by my first name, Jisung."   
  
"What happened to being equals? You're my princi _pal_. Why do you get to call me by my first name, but I don't get to do the same?"   
  
Jisung considered it a win when Mr. Lee's lips quirked up as he sat down with Jisung's records in his hands.   
  
"Because I'm not the one who came to school stoned, and then cursed out a teacher, Jisung," Mr. Lee said calmly.   
  
Jisung laughed, and sat back. This was a routine to him by this point. "You got me there, but in my defense, I didn't curse him out. I just said he can take his biology text book, and shove it up his ass. See, only one curse word. Doyoung is just overreacting."   
  
Taeyong massaged his temples, because he didn't know where to begin with this kid. "Jisung, first of all, don't call teachers by their first name," he started patiently. "Second of all, that was still disrespectful, and you apparently still came to school high."  
  
"Jokes on him, I was crying, and that's why my eyes were red."  
  
Taeyong wasn't sure which outcome was worse. "Are you ok-"  
  
"Yep, completely fine, moving on," Jisung said.   
  
"Well-"   
  
"Jisung Park, I'm going to kill you," a shrill voice called out from the office.   
  
Both Jisung, and Taeyong let out deep sighs. He and his principle bonded over a deep distaste for Mr. And Mrs. Park. They were...quite a pair. Pretentious, with deepset superiority complexes.   
  
"Hello, Mrs. Park-"  
  
Jisung's mother swept into the anally clean office like a whirlwind, and wasted no time.  
  
"Jisung, I told you that the next time you acted out you would be taken out of the dance studio, and shipped to you extended family," she ground out.   
  
"And I told you that I didn't really give a shit. The only two people that were worth staying for are gone now, and I'm sure as hell not talking about you and Dongsung."   
  
For all his bravado, Jisung was terrified of his parents. Especially his mother. She was a short women, but radiated an energy that made it seem like she towered over you. She was like a small, Korean Vin Diesel, with a worse temper, and stronger right hook.   
  
Jisung could visibly see her try to contain her anger, but the glare she sent him truly made him wonder whether he had died, and this was some kind of simulation. She turned to Mr. Lee, and Jisung may have laughed when he visibly flinched if it weren't for the fact that he was slightly scared that she was going to throttle him with her overpriced Gucci scarf.   
  
"What did he do this time?"   
  
Jisung did care. He cared a lot. The dance studio was all he had, and he wasn't going to lose it.Except right now he wasn't in control of that.   
  
Jisung sent him a pleading look, as Mr. Lee hesitated to speak. "Please," he mouthed.   
  
"Get on with it, I don't have all day," Mrs. Park snapped, long nails tapping against the wood of the desk.   
  
Oh how familiar Jisung had grown with that sound. Mr. Lee's eyes flickered between Jisung and his mother, before opening his mouth. "He just mouthed off to a teacher, Mrs. Park, it's not that big of a deal."   
  
"I don't care if it's a big deal," Jisung's mother seethed. "You are making a mockery of this family, Jisung. And I warned you, multiple times, and this is what you get-"   
  
"With all due respect, Mrs. Park," Mr. Lee cut in. "I'm not sure that sending him to Korea is the best option."   
  
"What gives you the right-"  
  
"Mrs. Park, please let me finish," he continued calmly. "Sending him to Korea would mean he wins. He finally got a reaction out of you. And you don't seem like the type of woman that enjoys losing."  
  
She was definitely listening now, body turned towards Mr. Lee, with an expectant gaze.   
  
"So what I would suggest we do is give it one more go. Send him to the guidance counselor, and if he doesn't get his act together then do as you see fit."   
  
So this is how it was gonna go.   
  
Mrs. Park pondered for a moment. Truthfully, her son had been out of hand for years, and she had given him multiple chances, but nothing ever seemed to have an effect. Maybe the guidance counselor wasn't a terrible idea.   
  
"Fine," she finally said, and Jisung sighed in relief. "But mark my words, Jisung Park, if there's even a single issue with you from this day on, you are going to your aunt and uncle, no questions asked."   
  
As she had been speaking the woman drew closer and closer to Jisung until her face was inches from his, eyes steeled, and mouth drawn into a severe line.   
  
Jisung had a strong feeling that his life was going to be eventful. 

* * *

  
"-the guidance counselor? I can see the headlines now: wild delinquent captured at long last, citizens relieved."   
  
Jisung hated Na Jaemin.   
  
"Nana, this is why I'm glad you moved away," Jisung deadpanned.   
  
He heard Jaemin giggle on the other end of the line.   
  
He and Jaemin had been best friends since they were small, Jaemin two years older physically, but five younger mentally. Despite being different ages, the two had done everything together. From something as mundane as surfing, to getting stoned for the first time, Jisung had more fond memories with Jaemin than he could count. For the longest time Jaemin had been his rock...until he wasn't there anymore. He was in New York now.   
  
And maybe Jisung missed him.   
  
Just a bit.   
  
"Shut up, Sungie, you love me."   
  
Jisung couldn't argue with that logic.   
  
"No homo though."   
  
Jaemin scoffed, and, if he knew anything about his best friend, probably flipped him off from the other end. "You gay ass bitch- you know what, moving on. Why'd you lash out at Mr. Kim? I may be an old man compared to you, but I distinctly remember you actually not minding him."  
  
Jisung had been dreading going into actual detail. Just because Jaemin was his friend, didn't mean he felt completely comfortable with the emotional nakedness of the situation. But he also realized resistance was pointless. Jisung sighed, and flopped face first into the bed. "Taeil got the internship."   
  
There was a weighted silence, as Jaemin realized what that meant. "The one in Korea?"   
  
Jisung hummed in affirmation.   
  
"And now you're...oh, Jisung, I'm sorry," Jaemin said.   
  
It seemed as if lately Jisung's life had been a huge episode of not realizing what he had till it wasn't there anymore. The universe was playing a joke, and it was a cruel one, and all on him.   
  
Or maybe he realized all too well what he had, and so the loss was just as disheartening.   
  
"Indeed."   
  
"Are your parents still-"   
  
"Complete pieces of shit."   
  
He heard Jaemin sigh, and maybe that's all there was to do. There were times when there really was nothing left to say, and in that case it's better to say nothing. Saves pain for both parties.   
  
"I'm there for you."  
  
"I know, Nana."   
  
Two people he cared deeply for in this god damn city, and both were now thousands of miles away. 

* * *

  
"You owe me one, Mr. Park," his principle said as he walked him through the halls.   
  
Jisung sighed, and rolled his eyes slightly.   
  
But he was still grateful.   
  
"I know, thank you, Mr. Lee," Jisung said sincerely.   
  
It physically hurt, but maybe he could be something other than a delinquent when it counted.   
  
They soon ground to a halt in front of the guidance counselor's office. Jisung loathed what was about to happen, and would happen once a week as long as Mr. Jung saw fit. But if it's what it would take to keep dancing, then Jisung would endure it.   
  
As far as he saw it, guidance counselors were adults you didn't know prying into your innermost thoughts by force, and perhaps, occasionally, it's necessary, but with Jisung his situation is very cut and dry. No amount of guidance can change that, because the true issue lies not on his end, but his parents.   
  
Mr. Lee turned to look Jisung square in the face. "Remember, Jisung, Mr. Jung may seem intimidating at first, but go easy on him. He's sensitive, which is why he makes a great counselor. But it's bad for me, because I don't need to come home to a whiny husband, now go," he said, before lightly pushing him in the direction of the door.   
  
"I knew he was gay," Jisung said softly to himself. He pushed through the door a moment later, to meet Mr. Jung.   
  
The counselor, as he saw, was the complete opposite of his principle, other than the quality of seeming put together, yet utterly exhausted, and scrambled simultaneously. He was a lanky man, with warm brown hair, and a icy exterior.   
  
Jisung approached apprehensively, not knowing what to do, and not wanting to rock the boat, per his mother's warning.   
  
Mr. Jung looked up from his laptop, never stopping whatever he was typing. "Ah, Jisung, sit down."   
  
Mr. Jung had warm eyes, and a dimpled smile that put Jisung at ease.   
  
But that didn't mean Jisung would willingly spill his guts.   
  
Jisung sat in the mildly uncomfortable school chair to face the counselor, and his unkempt desk.   
  
Mr. Jung finally closed his laptop, and put his full attention on Jisung.   
  
Jisung was never a person who particularly enjoyed being stared at, and definitely not someone with a gaze as piercing as Mr. Jung's. Jisung didn't find it very fair. Mr. Jung was incredibly hard to read, yet it seemed as if he was looking right through him.   
  
Mr. Jung gave him another smile, as he got out his notepad.   
  
"That's a bit cliche, isn't it?" Jisung quipped. He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs to at least give the impression he was at ease. Mr. Jung gave a quiet laugh. "It is, but all cliches come partly from truth. Anyways, how are you today, Jisung?"   
  
Jisung examined his nails, and let the silence settle in faux leisure. "You know, I've never figured out whether people actually want to know how you're doing when they ask that."   
  
"Well, I certainly would like to know. I'm your counselor so it's sort of my job," Mr. Jung countered.   
  
"Well then, I'm somewhere between disinterested, and annoyed. I don't like other people getting into my business, especially adults I don't know, and have no reason to trust."   
  
"Interesting, in my years, I've always found there's an underlying reason for that." Mr. Jung leaned with his forearms on the papers scattered around his desk, and Jisung had the distinct feeling he was trying to take him apart and examine him.   
  
Jisung rolled his eyes at Mr. Jung. How idiotic did he think Jisung was. "Mr. Jung, with all due respect, I'm not stupid. Whatever you're trying to do, however you try to talk it out, it's not going to work."   
  
Mr. Jung seemed intrigued by his answer. Jisung certainly was...different, but he had a way with words as well. "I never accused you of being stupid, I simply stated something I've observed. And since when do you ever do anything with respect. I have your file here, Jisung."   
  
Jisung couldn't help the scowl that slipped out, because Mr. Jung was right on both accounts.   
  
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."   
  
"I've also found that people rarely do that without significant reason."  
  
"I've found that people like to better themselves, if only to dangle that over the heads of other people, and I'm never opposed to feeling of finally holding some superiority over those around me," Jisung said.   
  
So far, this meeting seemed to be a battle of the wits, and they were at a draw.   
  
Silence ensued for a few moments, as Mr. Jung scribbled a few words down on his notepad.   
  
"Right, and you certainly act superior, so one never would've guessed that you feel otherwise."  
  
Jisung laughed mirthlessly, "how could I when I go to a school like this. And am forced to interact with people like that."   
  
Mr. Jung raised an eyebrow at Jisung. "People like what?" He questioned.   
  
Jisung's gaze snapped to the counselor incredulously. "People like them. Every student in this school is rich, and pretentious, and thinks God personally blessed us with their existence, and I think most of them forget that they're not some kind of overlord over every other human being."   
  
"And are you not rich? I don't see anything about a scholarship in your files, and as far as you paint it, there's no reason you shouldn't be like that."   
  
Jisung pondered those words for a minute, arms crossed as if to guard himself, and eyebrows furrowed in thought.   
  
Why wasn't he like that?  
  
Jisung opened his mouth, saying it slowly but surely as the words processed. "I dont want to be superior, maybe i just want want to be normal for once in my life. To not be undermined by those around me. Many people find it all too easy to become all the things they hate about their parents from sheer exposure to it, but I've taken it upon myself to be around them as little as possible in hopes that their superiority complexes don't rub off on me."   
  
"So it is about your parents, Taeyong always mentioned-"   
  
And in that moment Jisung knew he fucked up.   
  
Jisung threw his head back in frustration, and groaned into his hands as he realized what had just happened. Pushing himself back into his original position, he glared daggers at the counselor, and pointed an accusatory finger. "You got me talking, you-you tricked me."   
  
Mr. Jung just gave him that dimpled smile, and laced his fingers in front of him on the desk.   
  
Smug asshole.   
  
"One thing always leads to another, Jisung. And if something's bothering someone it's going to come out one way or another, remember that." 

* * *

  
Jisung was somewhat of an anamoly even to himself. You would think that with how impulsive he is his personality would match with extroversion. And you would think with how introverted he is, he would stop taking stupid risks that would screw him over in the end.   
  
"The new manager is coming today."   
  
"I'm aware, Jeno."   
  
Jeno was a good egg. Jisung genuinely liked him. But he was no Jaemin, and no Taeil. And Jisung wasn't sure he was ready to have someone else close enough to open up to.  
  
"I heard you have to go to the guidance counselor from now on."   
  
"Congratulations for having ears, Jeno."   
  
No one spoke from then on, the only sounds being the scuffling of shoes on the counter, and the noises emitted from the bowling alley, children laughing, and pins being taken down. Jisung didn't like awkward silences, but he could endure them without so much as a fidget. Unless his mother was involved, of course, because she's Satan.   
His dad was just...not there at all.   
  
Before long, the clock had struck six pm, and that meant it was the new manager's shift. Jisung could admit that he was curious as to who would be filling Taeil's shoes.   
  
"Are you excited to see who it'll be that replaces Taeil hyung?"   
  
"Excited? No. Mildly curious? Yes."   
  
Turns out, Jisung's curiosity would be sated about five minutes later.   
  
Through the sliding glass doors came a boy a few inches shorter than Jisung with frizzy, bleached hair, and soft eyes, and maybe Jisung was the tiniest bit smitten with how cute he is.Even in his Cherry Bomb polo shirt, beat up converse, and the neon bandages on his fingers the boy still managed to be the prettiest Jisung had ever seen. And the thing is, Jisung had always been a strong believer in testing your boundaries. Seeing just how much you could get away with before it all goes to shit. And Jisung wasn't into giving people secondhand smoke, so Jisung was glad Jeno's break started. And he's also glad for the glass doors separating the entrance, and shoe desk from the bowling alley, and food stands.   
  
He had always thought smoke was pretty, and he liked the smell, and the burn in his lungs. It showed in the way it permeated most of his clothing, and clung to his hair. Jisung wasn't stupid, he knew it was a bad decision, and disastrous to his health, and he couldn't explain why he did it in any other words other than it was a constant in his life.   
  
That and a little thing called nicotine addiction, but let's ignore that.   
  
It seems that the manager didn't very much appreciate it though.   
  
The manager locked eyes with Jisung, and he knew he was very screwed. The thing was, though, the manager reminded him a bit of a yorkie. Yorkies were cute, and fluffy, and could do virtually no harm, even if they thought they were tough just because they yapped at you repeatedly. The manager stalked over (short ass legs, Jisung almost snickered to himself), and eyed the cigarette. And then looked Jisung in the eyes. And then looked at his name tag.   
  
Can he please say something?   
  
"Jisung?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yes? I don't really know your name since you're not wearing a nametag, which isn't kosher in this establishment, so I'll just call you Gnomeo."

  
The manager looked like he was about to breathe fire at him. 

Jisung was definitely amused. 

"Woah, calm down, Gnomeo, I'm putting it out," Jisung said with an admittedly obnoxious grin. He stifled the heat onto his denim jeans. Half his clothes were riddled with cigarette burns, why not make it one more? 

The manager continued to glare. "Don't tell me to calm down, Jisung, that was v-very irresponsible." 

Cute. 

The boy had a high-pitched voice that lilted, and was soft. But he was trying his best to sound intimidating, and Jisung commended him for that, but it wasn't working at all. 

"How so? No ones around, and the bowling alley is separated so no one else but me is getting lung cancer here," Jisung argued. 

"It's the principle of the matter, the sign clearly says no smoking." 

"You're right, but I don't see why it's currently that big of a deal."

The manager sighed, not bothering to argue back, before walking towards the boss's office. But before he completely turned away, he had something else to add. 

Something that ruined literally everything in merely a second. 

"I don't know how the other manager handled things, but I heard he was, and quoting the boss, a lazy asshole, so now that I'm-" 

It wasn't that big a deal.That's what he tried to remind himself as he felt the anger build in his chest. Nope, his self control was on a break at the moment. 

  
"Look here, Gnomeo, I don't really give a shit if you're my boss, if you insult Taeil again, it won't be nice, got it?" 

All he got in return was a cocked eyebrow, and an unimpressed stare. 

* * *

  
"Are you going to speak at all?" 

Jisung shook his head, and crossed his arms. 

"Care explaining why?" Mr. Jung asked. 

Jisung could not believe the audacity, how fucking stupid- 

"I mean in writing, obviously," he clarified. 

He pushed the pen, and paper towards Jisung who leaned forward to scrawl his explanation in messy, tilting handwriting. 

 

_If I don't speak you can't trick me into saying anything._

Now Jaehyun felt a bit guilty when he read that. He was just trying to get the boy to open up, and maybe he did it in a somewhat unorthodox manner (read: morally dubious manner). 

Mr. Jung frowned apologetically. "Ah, I'm sorry, Jisung, I was just trying to give you a gentle nudge in the right direction. Though, I admit I could've gone about that better," he said. 

Jisung continued to sit and glare with his mouth clamped shut, and eyes pointedly avoiding Mr. Jung. 

And truth be told, Mr. Jung was worried that he had messed up, and badly at that. He was now painfully aware that he shouldn't have pushed Jisung. He despised when people forced him into divulging information when he wasn't comfortable with it, and here he was being a massive hypocrite. A sorry excuse for a guidance counselor, good job, Jung. 

"Just don't force me again." 

Mr. Jung smiled slightly, and breathed out in relief, because ok, maybe this wasn't a complete lost cause, and he hadn't hopelessly messed it up. 

"I won't, trust me," Mr. Jung replied. 

Tense silence ran rampant for a moment or two, where Mr. Jung pretended to busy himself with his horrendously disorganized desk, and Jisung sat still as a stone. It became increasingly apparent that Mr. Jung was going to have to take the plunge. 

"Jisung, hear me out on this," he began. "I know you have issues opening up, that much is apparent to me. But it's unhealthy to keep everything shut in, and never have a form of release. And I know that sounds like therapist bs, but it feels so much better once you realize you don't have to go through whatever it is alone. And plus, the faster we sort through your issues, gje faster you get out of these sessions, and I'm assuming that's what you want." 

It was definitely what Jisung wanted. 

Jisung drew in a breath, and opened his mouth to speak. Mr. Jung truly wondered if he took long just to fuck with him, or if he was actually thinking. "I did have someone, two people, actually, that I could share with." Jisung seemed to grow more upset the longer he spoke, but the show of emotion was promising, and Mr. Jung figured he shouldn't intervene. 

"One was my best friend who I didn't feel comfortable sharing with, per se, but it's the closest I got for awhile. And then the other was actually my manager at the job I hate funnily enough," Jisung smiled to himself, and he couldn't tell if it was fond or slightly rueful. "I met him about two years ago, I would say. And he was an overworked college student, and he was supposed to be greeting me, but he had fallen asleep at the desk, and so I had to wake him up. The first thing he said to me was you know you look like chicken little, right?" 

Mr. Jung had fallen completely silent awhile ago, and looked on slightly fond, as Jisung recalled the person with a tone somewhere between melancholy, and loving. "What happened to those two people?" 

Jisung's expression turned darker, and Mr. Jung feared for a moment that he had misstepped. "My best friend moved to New York, and it was definitely jarring since we had been friends since kindergarten. And then Taeil actually left a few weeks ago. He had finally gotten this big internship for an entertainment company, and he was over the moon. But the internship is in Korea, so you know how that went. And it's actually why I lashed out at Mr. Kim," Jisung explained. "I tend to do that, take my anger out on others." 

Mr. Jung nodded in understanding, and processed all the information Jisung had shared. "And do you have any other friends?" 

"Not close ones. There's Jeno Lee, he goes here, I'm not sure if you've met him." 

"He's a good egg, very smart kid." 

Jisung barked out a laugh. "That's exactly what I said. But anyways, we're not close. I guess I always just thought that we're too different. We're on two opposite sides of the social and personality spectrum." 

"You never know unless you try, Jisung. And it'll be good for you. Everyone needs someone there, and just because you're our friendly neighborhood delinquent doesn't make it any different," Mr. Jung said, half jokingly. 

He was right, Jisung definitely needed someone there. 

* * *

  
Jisung was petty. More than just a little bit. 

And maybe he was being unfair to Chenle. After all, it was a single offhand comment about someone he didn't really no, and he never meant any real harm. And maybe he was bullshitting himself into thinking that it was because of Chenle's personality. He did have a stick up his ass. 

In reality, everyone knew it was because Jisung was fiercely protective. Anyone who talked bad about his loved ones immediately got a face full of bitchy teenager feigning stupidity and mediocrity to piss people off. And the occasional backhanded comment. 

"- And you have no respect for authority, whatsoever-" 

Chenle had been going off on him for a good five minutes, and all Jisung was hearing was blah blah blah I can't take a joke, and I also sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks when I'm mad.

"-You're lucky I haven't fired you yet," Chenle finally finished. 

"Why haven't you?" 

Chenle stopped, and blinked as if confused. "What?" 

Jisung was really pushing it here. 

"You heard me, and my bet is because you're too soft to actually go through with it." 

Chenle was...unhappy to say the very least, and seemed to he debating whether or not he should blow up on Jisung. Throughout the whole thing Jeno had been standing to the side uncomfortably, and looked frightened for Jisung, because he had gone pretty far at work before, but he had never directly threatened an authority figure. Not that he had reason to seeing as he was under Taeil's command, and Taeil either slept, did homework, or played fortnite on the computer most of the time. 

Chenle wasn't a threatening guy either, far from it. At a whopping height of 5'8, and a stunning lack of backbone unless Jisung directly insulted him, Chenle wasn't exactly someone you would shake in fear of. But he definitely seemed borderline furious right now. 

Chenle seemed to be trying to calm himself down, and took a heaving breath that he exhaled a moment later, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm going to walk away now, because I'm literally going to deck you if I continue standing here." 

Jisung waved him off with a victorious smile, and a sacharrine see you later, boss. 

That kid was going to screw himself over one day. 

Jeno stepped back over to his position at the front once the fiasco ended, and nudged Jisung. "You need to give Chenle a break, man, what's he ever done to you?" 

Jisung remained impassive, and scrubbed the same pair of bowling shoes he had been working on since his break. "He insulted Taeil, and he has a stick up his ass," he replied without a hitch. 

"But he doesn't even know Taeil, he didn't mean any harm, he just wanted to make a point when you guys first met." 

Jisung side eyed him, and finally put down the shoes. He didn't like that Jeno was right. "He still has a stick up his ass." 

Jeno could not believe this kid. In all honesty, he felt bad for Chenle. Being the recipient of Jisung's wrath couldn't be enjoyable. He turned to face Jisung entirely, and found the boy looking back equally unimpressed. "I would be pissed too if you treated me like that for no good reason." 

Rather than replying, Jisung walked around the counter, and headed out the sliding glass doors to have a smoke. 

And Jeno wasn't sure whether he was satisfied since that meant Jisung acknowledged that he's correct, or if he's pissed because he's not going to do anything about the fact that he's wrong.

* * *

  
Jisung had made it a point when he began working here to get as little done as humanly possibly, and that meant a lot of free time. 

With a bored sigh, he rested his head on his hands, and observed his surroundings, which wasn't much better than doing absolutely nothing. 

There was a family bickering with Jeno to his left, and Chenle being his irritating self to his right as he discussed something apparently hilarious with Mark from the food stand (it probably wasn't actually funny, Mark just had a terrible sense of humor), and then there was Jisung himself being bored out of his god damn mind. 

And Jisung wasn't the kind of guy that spent his Saturday nights getting drunk or high at a house party, and then contracted some form of an STD through a series of bad decisions, and too many shot. No, he just got drunk or high alone in his room, on videochat with Jaemin. 

Regardless, he didn't really care for spending his Saturday night working in a run down bowling alley. 

The company phone ringing shook him out of his thoughts, and he scrambled to answer because maybe messing with someone would boost his mood, and provide him some desperately needed amusement. 

"Hello?" 

"Hi, I was just wondering what time you guys are open until?" 

This person didn't sound like an asshole, so maybe Jisung would just curve them for a bit while live tweeting. 

"Well, it depends on how you think about it, because it's 8 PM currently, but in parts of central Africa it's 5 AM, so really who knows?" Jisung drawled as he continued typing, keeping hold of the phone with his shoulder. 

"Look, can you please just tell me what time you guys close?" The man replied, sounding disgruntled. 

"Time is a human construct, so are you sure it's really worth it?"

"Ok, I asked you nicely-" 

From there on Jisung's mind did the thing where he may as well be meditating, because his mind goes completely blank as he gets reprimanded. Think of it as an extreme form of selective hearing. He was aware that the irritating little buzz in his ear was an angry middle aged man, but his mind was anywhere else but there. 

The thing that forcibly dragged him out of his meditation was Chenle snapping his fingers in front of his face, and mouthing get off your phone. 

So Jisung did. 

"What the fuck are you doing Jisung?" Chenle groaned, ignoring the scandalized looks the family gave him.

Jisung gave a placid smile and continued to text Jaemin without looking at the keyboard. "You told me to hang up the phone," he said, feigning confusion. 

"I meant- no, you know what I meant." 

"You can't prove that, now let's just hope that guy doesn't call back." 

* * *

  
"Can you please just try, Jisung?" 

Jisung sent a fierce glare as he continued eating before going to his shift. "I tried for years, and nothing ever came out of it, what's the point?" 

He was tired, and especially of his parents pretending like they care. 

His mother tutted disapprovingly, and his father sat disinterested as he normally was. 

"The point is your going for ruin your own life-" 

"Exactly. It's my life, and you only care because if I fail it means embarrassment in front of your "friends." I've stopped making issues, so I would like if you would leave me alone. I'm sick and tired of having this conversation, and if you'll excuse me I'm going to work now."

He vaguely heard his father saying something about how Jisung will learn eventually, but he blocked it out as best as he could 

Jisung damn near threw his dish into the sink, and stormed out the door, and into the chilly fall air. 

His entire life he had been cast aside by his parents, treated like he was just a bother. He had tried so hard for years to do anything to make them pay a shred of attention to him. He had won the spelling bees, ranked top three in dance tournaments, gotten honor every fucking year, till freshman year of highschool, and it was never enough for them. 

And so he had stopped trying in highschool. 

They brought this upon themselves, and they should learn to accept it. 

And maybe, he pondered as his converse hit the pavement on his way to Cherry Bomb, he shouldn't bother to let them be upset. Everyone always reminded him that he shouldn't let them affect him, to care as little as they did. But it was hard. That wasn't how it worked. He put so much effort into a facade, into seeming sterile, and seeming like nothing affected him, but it was all a lie. 

And everytime they had this fight it seemed like he cracked a little bit more. 

There was a stinging behind his eyes and nose, and a wetness on his cheeks that refused to be ignored, and a rapid depletion in his energy that made him want to turn back, but go anywhere but home. 

The pushed through the doors of his job, and made his way to the back to punch his timecard. 

Jeno looked at him questioningly, but Jisung avoided his gaze, and ignored his presence. Jeno had been cold to him since the conversation concerning Chenle, because apparently he thought Chenle was a decent guy (imagine thinking something as absurd as that), and Jisung was going to be the one to break the silence. 

The austere silence rang at the desk for the better part of ten minutes. Jeno snuck quick glances at Jisung, who was focusing on anything but how he felt. He saw the ugly carpet, the flashing lights, the lighthearted murmurs of families, and he longed for that more than he could care to admit. He wanted the stereotypical family, the mother that means well, the father that tries to bond with his kid even if it was by taking them on a shitty fishing trip. 

He quickly wiped at the tears that managed to escape, and excused himself to the back again, not wanting to face patrons like this. 

Before he could turn, though, a surprisingly strong grip grabbed his wrist, and trapped him. 

"What do you want, Jeno?" Jisung said through gritted teeth. 

Jeno rolled his eyes, and tugged Jisung to his side again. "Look, Jisung, I know we're not close friends, and you're kind of an asshole, but I don't like seeing you upset, it's really disconcerting." 

"Well I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," Jisung snapped. 

Jeno gave a frown that bordered on a pout, and gave him a soft nudge of indignation. "You didn't let me finish, I was going to say, if you want to talk about it I'm here." 

Jisung was going to decline, but then he remembered what Mr. Jung said. He should make friends. And part of making friends was opening up, and allowing them in. 

Jisung seemed to be doing a lot of the in the past month or so. 

"It's just my family. They don't seem to care unless I pose a threat to their reputation," Jisung explained, letting his head rest on his crossed arms, facing Jeno. 

"I see." 

Jeno was deep in thought, and Jisung could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he presumably tried to figure out how to console a sulky delinquent. "If it makes you feel any better," he finally said. "Even if they don't get better, eventually it'll seem like it doesn't matter. It must hurt now, but...they're not worth it, and you must know that, but one day your emotions will catch up." 

Jisung nodded, because that was really all he could do. Even if all he did was reassure what Jisung was aware of, he tried, and he cared, and that was enough for him. "Thank you, Jeno," Jisung said with a weary smile. 

Jeno sent him a bright one back with his signature eyesmile, and tugged at his hand. "C'mon, it's slow today let's go bully Mark into giving us nachos." 

Jisung allowed himself to be tugged along, nearly tripping over his own feet, a smile still maintained. His sneakers slid across ugly carpeting till Jeno pushed through the doors to the bowling alley. 

Jisung wasn't usually one for loud noises or crowds, but this was...calming, in a way. He was just someone in a crowd, and just another teenager. He wasn't the fuck up son, or the problem student. He was just a kid, and he was going to have fun. 

He found himself laughing as Jeno smacked into a middle aged lady, and immediately got flustered, going bright red. Jisung grinned, and pulled Jeno away. 

"Goody goody." 

"Deplorable." 

"And proud of it," Jisung said amicably. 

Mr. Jung was right this time. 

* * *

  
He hated this school. And held a disdain for most of his peers. 

It all just reminded him of his parents. The superiority, the pretentiousness, the unhappiness behind closed doors. Jisung heard whispers, and you soon found that all rich families had one thing in common, and that thing was disfunctionality. 

And Jisung very much disliked the cafeteria. 

Jisung was...lonely. To say the very least. Before Jaemin moved in Jisung's freshman year he was pretty much his only friend. They sat together at lunch, and now that he was gone Jisung was a loner, so to speak. The vast majority of the other students were up their own ass, stoned and good at hiding it, or stoned and very bad at hiding it, but the teachers were too stupid to notice, or too busy to care. 

And today was nothing special. 

Jisung sat in the far left table in the top corner, where nobody else sat since it was close enough to the kitchen doors that you had a good chance of getting smacked in the face. The only other people that sat there was a girl that smelled perpetually of eggnog, and ate glue in history once, and a boy who he had seen around since 6th grade but he had never seen speak. 

Another day painfully alone-

"Jisung!" 

Jisung nearly jumped at the sudden interruption, and whipped around to see Jeno with a bright smile waving him over like that big floppy toy at gas stations. 

Headass. 

But then thing was, Jisung was scared. 

No, not scared, he was utterly terrified. 

At the best of times Jisung had social skills slightly better than those of Taeil, which isn't hard to do, and at it's worst, i.e when he's nervous, they devolve to those of that one weeb in middle school. 

And Jisung really loved to pretend that nothing intimidated him because he was a bad bitch, but in reality, he was petrified by the idea of sitting with the popular group. 

He supposes he had nothing to lose, though, his reputation still leaves much to be desired, so it can't get much worse. 

With a hint of hesitation he forces himself to put one foot in front of the other, until he finds himself being the ugly duckling in a group of people that are actually succeeding in life. 

Jeno smiled at him, and motioned for him to sit down, which Jisung followed. "This is Jisung, my coworker from the bowling alley." 

The group nodded and smiled at him in secession, and Jisung really wasn't used to this much attention. Well, at least positive attention. 

In front of him were two other boys that he recognized as Renjun, and Xuxi. Or Yukhei. Or Lucas. 

Whichever you preferred. 

Renjun was a senior, two years older than Jisung, and practically a shoe in for valedictorian. He was part of the strange breed of people that were naturally good at school, and barely had to try to be the teacher's pet. 

Xuxi was one of their star basketball players, and it was never confirmed, but Jisung could've sworn he was held back. Sweet guy, though. If he wasn't Jeno wouldn't be friends with him. 

Jisung had kept his gaze trained on his lunch, or more like lack thereof, hands fidgeting in his lap. He sent a tight lipped smile their way as they introduced themselves, not bothering to say that everyone in this school knows who they are. 

And Jisung wasn't one for physical affection. Jisung rarely made contact with others, especially others he had just met, but apparently the overgrown puppy at the table didn't get the memo. Jisung barely had time to process what was happening, as Yukhei rounded the table, and collected the smaller boy in his (absolutely massive) arms. 

Jisung found himself in quite the compromising position, that being wrapped up next to Yukhei (god, this kid might as well have been a constrictor), and the aforementioned giant cooing right next to his ear about how cute he was. 

Yukhei let out what might've been the most obnoxious laugh Jisung had ever heard, but he looked happy enough while he was at it that he couldn't be annoyed. At least not too much. 

Jisung let himself be manhandled, and just pouted at Jeno. "Get your fucking mammoth off me, Jeno Lee," he grumbled as Yukhei pinched his cheeks. 

"Don't be so mean, Jisungie, you're just so cute when you're annoyed." 

"It won't be so funny when you get kneed in your micropenis, Xuxi." 

Much to Yukhei's chagrin his friend laughed as his own expense. He detangled himself from Jisung with minor difficulty, and returned to his original seat. "You wound me, Sungie," he said with a fake pout. 

"Does it surprise you, Xuxi? What else is there to expect from our own delinquent, the only bitch I respect in this house," Renjun retorted, as he stole one of Yukhei's Oreos, and a fry from Jeno in the same breath. 

From there it turned into a total brawl, it was just like MMA cage fights, but instead of muscled, testosterone fueled men, it was two skinny twinks, and the giant from the Princess Bride twenty years younger. That sounded like a premise for a bad porn, so moving on. The whole fiasco ended with Renjun in a headlock, Xuxi actually getting kneed in the dick, and Jeno trying to get Renjun out of the headlock, and Mr. Qian kicking them out of the cafeteria. 

The three giggled as they gathered their things, and turned to leave, and Jisung was....a bit disappointed in all honesty. Back to being alone, he wasn't really surprised. 

"C'mon, loser," Renjun called. 

Jisung's head whipped around in surprise, but he scrambled up anyways, and ran towards them. "I'm coming, after all, what would you guys do without me?" He said, easily slipping back into his cocky persona. 

This received an eyeroll from Jeno, and Renjun, and a too tight hug from Xuxi. 

Jisung may be speaking too soon, but he had a feeling things could be looking up. 

* * *

  
"Have you ever thought about apologizing to Chenle?" 

He really should. 

Especially after he said Chenle is shorter and uglier than Danny Devito. 

"And why would I do that?" Jisung drawled, never looking up from where he was sorting through the box of deteriorating bowling shoes. 

He could practically feel Jeno's unimpressed stare. Now that they were friends, he seemed to think it was alright to actually "be honest with him." Who's ever heard of such a thing? 

(Jisung didn't mind all that much, he was just thankful for friendship. No soft shit though.) 

"Because at the rate you're going you'll be fired from the job," Jeno said. 

And he was kind of right, but Jisung was not going to admit that immediately. "I haven't even been that bad, he's just being a dramatic little keebler elf." 

He heard Jeno scoff incredulously even from the back. "Dude, you literally said that Timothee Chalamet wouldn't go for him because he's the missing link between humans and apes." 

"Not my fault he can't handle the truth." 

"When he smacked into a trash can you told him to apologize because that's his family." 

"Just keeping it real here, Jeno." 

Jeno let out a frustrated grown. "You told Mr. Seo that Chenle said he had a fat ass, resulting in him yelling at Chenle, and banishing him to clean the boy's bathroom for three days, and you know how nasty that is." 

"First of all, it was all in good fun, and second of all, Johnny is chill, literally said not to call him Mr. Seo, and was only mad that day because he and his boyfriend were in a fight. Chenle even got let off early because Johnny got some ass after they made up." 

The owner of this fine establishment was a sweet guy, very fond of his employees (including Jisung, and Taeil even if he complained about both endlessly), but not very organized. Johnny Seo was a hot mess from Chicago, but his only real flaw was hiring that asshole of a manager. 

"It's the principal of the matter, Jisung, and if you don't go apologize within the next ten minutes I'll tell Renjun it was you threw out his watercolors." 

"By accident!" 

"Tick tock, Jisung." 

With a huff, and a middle finger in the general direction of Jeno, Jisung stomped off to find the lorax, himself. He flung open the glass door, and dodged through the crowd of suburban families, and the occasional drugged out college student in search of his manager. 

He really didn't want to apologize. He's aware, perfectly so, that he was nothing short of a total dickhead, but so was Chenle, and the only ideal his family had ever passed onto him was an eye for an eye, and he wasn't too keen on going against that. 

It took two minutes of searching, and a brief incident with an astray bowling ball before he saw the platinum hair bobbing around near the food stand. 

Without a word, Jisung wrapped his fingers around Chenle's wrist with a surprising gentleness, and tugged him towards the quietest corner of the establishment. He turned to face a very angry dwarf, pouting. "What do you want, Jisung? To insult me more?" 

Jisung felt a bit bad once he heard that. 

"No, Bilbo Baggins, I wanted to apologize." 

Chenle's expression went from shock, to hesitancy, to slight anger faster than Jisung could really register. 

Chenle's immediate reaction was to push past Jisung, but to his displeasure Jisung stopped him with little effort. He struggled a bit more, trying to pull his wrists from Jisung's grasp to no avail, and soon gave up, realizing there was no point. 

"Fine, go ahead," he said moodily. 

Jisung may have clammed up a bit there. This wasn't his forte. Being a civilized human being wasn't his forte as far as Chenle and his mother were concerned. "I am...sorry. I've been a huge dick, and it wasn't fair of me." 

He thought he did pretty well, and truth be told, he was mentally patting himself on the back. 

Chenle's expression grew darker still, and he leaned against the wall. "Mhm, and why, exactly, did you decide to do that?" 

Oh dear. 

"Because..." Jisung hesitated. "You insulted Taeil, and you're also kind of a bitch, no offense." 

Oh, if Jeno could see him how. Jisung was an utterly tactless idiot. 

"Has it ever occurred to you that I'm only a bitch because you started it?" 

Jisung frowned. Chenle was the one that insulted Taeil in the first place. "How did I start it? You insulted my friend first." 

Chenle glared at him like he was the denser than osmium (thank you, Renjun for that useless fact). "I didn't mean anything by it, I was trying to assert myself as manager seeing as someone smoked on the job, and called me Gnome boy or whatever two seconds in." 

"It was Gnomeo-" 

"It doesn't fucking matter," Chenle nearly shouted. 

Well then. 

Chenle caught himself, and tried to compose himself as best as people, drawing in a deep breath. "Look," he said lowly. "You've been making my life so much harder than it needs to be for three fucking months, and I'm just here trying to help support my family, while you're here being you're being a spoiled rich kid- yeah don't think the employees here don't talk about Jisung Park, and his high society parents," Chenle spat after seeing the surprised look flash across Jisung's face. 

Jisung definitely felt bad now. 

"I'll level with you, Chenle, I don't know how you feel. Judging by the fact that you're helping support your family, I'm assuming you're strapped for money, and I don't know what it's like to be in that situation, and I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't know you were going through that," Jisung said, practically wringing his hands. 

"No, no, no, you don't level with me. You're the one that did wrong. And of course you don't know what it's like, because you're just another kid that thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants because his parents have money. And you're right, you may as well be untouchable because you have privilege," Chenle said. He gave a borderline chilling laugh, a surprisingly bitter one, and continued. "You have so much privilege, and you don't even realize it half the time. You let it go to waste, and I just can't understand people like you sometimes." 

"I-" 

"I'm not done," Chenle said scathingly. "You refused to do your job correctly, insulted me repeatedly, and Nearly got me in trouble so many fucking times. I hope you're happy, Jisung." 

  
Jisung wasn't sure what he was feeling, but his blood ran cold from something. Balled up in his chest was a strange fusion of guilt, and anger, and there was no way to correctly express it. "I'm sorry, ok, there's nothing else I can do to show you I am. But I am. But you know what, Chenle, you're kind of being a dick right now too. Like I said, I don't pretend to know what you're going through, but you can't just assume shit about my situation. Financial security isn't everything, and I have shit going on too just like everyone else."   
  
"Right, come back to me when your family has dipped below the poverty line at least once."   
  
"No, you come back to me when you're gonna get shipped off to Korea for one misstep."   
  
"At least you can afford that."   
  
"Dude, this isn't a competition."   
  
"You seem to have made it one by arguing back."   
  
Chenle was up in his face, with a finger digging into his chest, and eyes that glimmered with something suspiciously close to tears.   
  
This night went very different than he anticipated. 

* * *

  
Ok maybe Jisung still felt guilty. He didn't like that Chenle assumed he had it completely easy, just because of his financial status, but...he can see why he's angry.   
  
He had fucked with a guy who was just trying to get by for months, and Jisung had never felt more like a dumb cunt until now. There were moments in his life, and everyone's life that they wished they could change, but never before had Jisung felt this terrible about it. Maybe it was how upset Chenle got, or maybe it's Jisung going soft, but he wanted to make it up to him.   
  
He supposed now was his best bet.   
  
Cherry Bomb was a small, local business, meaning it only had four employees. Jisung, Mark, Jeno, and Chenle. And so with Jeno sick with food poisoning, and Mark giving him the food poisoning from his atrocious nachos, and therefore taking care of him, it would just be him and Chenle the entire night.   
  
And truth be told, Jisung was thrumming with energy, and anxiety the whole night. He and Chenle barely interacted, had barely spoken for days, and it was hard to not do anything. He was just a few feet away, and it only took a few seconds to bring it up, but it wasn't the right time. It was too noisy, and there were too many distractions for this type of conversation.   
  
It wasn't until nearly 10 PM that Jisung got the opportunity to say anything of substance.   
  
And he hoped this worked. He thought he hated Chenle, and maybe he still disliked him a bit, but it was...strange. His sudden lack of nagging, and general presence in his life had been disconcerting at best. It was something new, but not in a good way.   
  
The employees were known to play a round or two of bowling right before they closed up, and Chenle was playing against himself. That's a whole new level of lonely that not even Jisung has hit. He would've laughed if it weren't for the fact that he had done enough of that to Chenle to last a lifetime.   
  
He edged towards him with slight apprehension. For all he knew Chenle would give him blunt head force trauma with the bowling ball as soon as he saw him. He waited for Chenle to finish that turn, before he meekly tapped his shoulder. With a startled gasp, Chenle whipped around, expression souring nearly immediately.   
  
"What do you want?" He said curtly.   
  
"To apologize."   
  
"Haven't you already done enough of that?"   
  
Jisung should've expected this. He did expect this. But it still stung.   
  
Jisung sat in the high chair at the table, and beckoned Chenle to sit down, which he did with slight resistance. "I want to really apologize," Jisung said.   
  
"Go ahead, I'm listening."   
  
Jisung never really expected to get this far. "I'm sorry. Again. I really would've layed off if I knew the whole situation. And you're completely right to be angry at me. And you probably do have it worse than me."   
  
Stilted, but he got through it, and he felt a bit of the weight lifted off his chest.  
  
Jisung wasn't someone that apologized often- or ever. And he knew that Chenle knew that, and took into account the amount of pride he had to push through to say that.   
  
Chenle was silent for awhile. It was like Jisung was hyper aware of every noise. From the whirring of the arcade section to the scuffling of his own feet.   
  
"I think- I think I should apologize too," Chenle said.   
  
What now?   
  
Jisung must've ascended into the twilight zone, there was no other explanation as to this strange phenomenon.   
  
"Oh?" He said dumbly.   
  
Chenle squirmed in his seat, and kept his eyes more on his lap than Jisung. "Yeah, it was...wrong of me to assume about your situation...maybe. I don't know what your home life is like, and...yeah. I can't pretend to know your circumstances either so...I'm sorry."   
  
Jisung was...oddly touched. He was definitely going soft.   
  
"We both fucked up, didn't we?" Jisung said with a sigh.   
  
Chenle nodded, but gave a small smile. "But we're ok now? Right?" He added the last part with a bit of insecurity.   
  
"Y-yes, we are, Chenle," Jisung responded quickly. This was going...so much better than he ever anticipated, and he felt himself get a bit giddy with the rush of joy.   
  
"Then now I can tell you with a healthy conscience that you're built like Ryuk from Death Note."   
  
Wow.   
  
Jisung let out a slightly scandalized laugh, and jokingly shoved Chenle's shoulders from across the table. "At least I'm not approximately the same height as Yoda."   
  
"Hey, fuck you, at least my character isn't an asshole."   
  
"Yeah, definitely can't relate with that one."   
  
Eventually, the laughter died down on its own, and they were left with a comfortable silence.   
  
It was Chenle who broke the silence again.   
  
"Do you wanna maybe...play a round together?"   
  
"Sure, Chenle."   
  
The bright smile, and small hand that grabbed his was worth getting yelled at for coming home late. 

* * *

  
Wasn't the definition of insanity doing things over, and fucking over again in hopes that things will change? Because Jisung's entire family was certifiably off their heads in that case. There comes a point in life where you're tired of going through things like it's a routine. The spontaneity disappears, and the clock just seems to be droning on. Nothing drags a reaction out of you anymore, because you've seen it a million times before. The only difference was that it was like a sense of deja vu every time, right down to the part where Jisung hides his tears in his hands, and muffles his low whimpers into his pillow.   
  
There also comes a point where you're tired of being the disappointment. But what's the point of not being one, when disappointment is the only reaction your parents ever give you.   
  
And Jisung needed to get out of there. About a year back, Jisung might've already been with Jaemin, exploring L.A. or at Taeil's apartment, the older making him ramen while his boyfriends bitched about the baby waking them up (they always ended up offering him comfort anyways).   
  
But they weren't there anymore.   
  
Jeno wasn't an option, because his parents' alarm would go off, and then they would both be screwed, Renjun was probably studying, and Xuxi was...himself.   
  
But everything in this room, in this house reminded him of his family, can he even call them that? Family gives a shit about you, his parents clearly didn't.  
  
Chenle?   
  
Chenle.   
  
The only catch is that he doesn't have Chenle's number, and no inkling of where he lives.   
  
That, and the fact that they just made up yesterday.   
  
This would be a good bonding activity, it'll be fine.   
  
He pulled out his phone, and typed a quick message to Jeno, praying that he answers soon.   
  
Dude where does Chenle live?   
  
_Moai: uhhh are_   _u_   _gonna murder him or smth?_    
  
_Nah man, we made up yesterday_   _I_   _just need to get out of the house for_   _a_   _bit_    
  
_That's good!_   _I'm g_ _lad you're not_   _a_ _total_ asshole  
  
Jisung scoffed at Jeno's message, but thanked him anyways a moment later once he received the address.

* * *

  
Chenle's house was...not what he was expecting, but not in a negative light.   
  
It was in a rundown portion of the city, where just a little further in, and you would have to watch your back, and where everyone knew each other, because they had all helped the other at least once.   
  
The house itself was a little worse for wear, cracks running down the neutral walls, and some windows were stuck in certain positions. The door had parts where the paint had flaked off, and the outside light ebbed every so often, but what really caught Jisung's attention was inside. Inside was lit up warm yellow, and he could hear faint laughter emanating from the house. In the crack in the curtains, he could make out a joyful family. The father cooking, and the mother at the table with a little girl in her lap, all of them smiling, and it felt like Jisung's heart had been taken into someone's fist, and twisted.   
  
He wondered what that felt like.   
  
Maybe he should just go.   
  
He turned around to leave them be. But then Chenle's father turned around. And saw Jisung. Directing fucking eye contact. Amazing!   
  
Jisung ran. Or rather, tried to. The next thing he knew his head hurt, his knees had grass stains, and he vaguely tasted what he assumed was dirt in his mouth.   
  
Great.  
  
He vaguely registered the front door flying open, and strong arms heaving him up, yelling something at him.   
  
"Who are you, and why were you watching us?"   
  
_Please, I'm just a teenage twink who wants to talk to your cute son_ , Jisung thought to himself.   
  
What came out was:   
  
"Your son is cute."   
  
Jisung swears to god he saw the light that day, and his life flash before his eyes, and also Chenle's dad's fist half an inch away from his face.   
  
"Oh my god, dad, stop!"   
  
Thank God for Zhong Chenle. Mr. Zhong didn't let go, but he did lower his fist. Jisung's- self proclaimed- cute ass face would live another day.   
  
"Who is this kid? Do you know him?" Mr. Zhong asked.   
  
Chenle pulled Jisung from his father's grasp, and kept a protective arm slung around his waist. What a sight they must make. Two scrawny, teenage Asians, one big, angry Asian, and one of them covered in grass stains, and practically shaking in fear.   
  
"Yes, dad," Chenle responded. "This is my friend from work, Jisung Park."   
  
Surprise worked its way onto Mr. Zhong' s face. "The governor's kid?"   
  
God damn it.   
  
Jisung tried to keep that as under wraps as possible, and now his cover was blown. "Yes, I'm the governor's kid."   
  
Mr. Zhong continued eyeing him suspiciously, and it took all of his self control not to cling closer to Chenle. "What are you doing in this part of town, kid?"   
  
"I guess I just needed to get out for a bit, and was gonna see if your son was in," Jisung replied, feeling uneasy.   
  
"Right, and-"   
  
"Stop grilling the kid!" Mrs. Zhong called from the doorway. "Jisung, would you like to come in for dinner?"   
  
Jisung became aware of how hungry he was, seeing as he stormed out from dinner.   
  
If he could survive this without getting killed by her husband, he would be home free.   
  
He thanked the woman, but stayed rooted in his spot, scared to do anything to awaken the kraken (by Kraken he meant middle aged Chinese man with anger issues). Chenle took his hand, and gently tugged as if to say it's ok for him to go inside. He began to walk, and noticed out of his peripheral vision that Mr. Zhong kept a trained eye on him.   
  
He would need luck on his side for this one. 

* * *

  
Mrs. Zhong was a good cook, first and foremost. Her _har gow_ was...the best he had ever eaten. Ever. And it took every ounce of willpower he had left in his two braincells not to scarf down the _shumai_ like it was his last meal.   
  
Anyways, she was also when of the sweetest individuals he had ever met. Completely juxtaposing her husband, she welcomed Jisung with open arms, like he had always been there, and now that Jisung had seen exactly who Chenle was helping out? He couldn't feel worse. And to add to his ever growing pile of things that make him want to shove himself into a small opening, and never come out, this just served to remind him what was lacking in his own household.   
  
"Are you ok, Jisung?" Mrs. Zhong asked.   
  
He had been making a face hadn't he?   
  
He flushed slightly, and picked at his food to busy himself. "Yes, thank you, Mrs. Zhong, there's just...a lot on my mind."   
  
"Care to share?"   
  
Here's a new episode of Naked and Afraid: Jisung's emotions edition.   
  
"I just got into a fight with my parents. It's no big deal, it'll blow over," Jisung explained.   
  
His statement was received with mixed reactions. Concern from Chenle, passive acceptance from his mother, and slight scrutiny from his father. His smaller sister was young enough that she wasn't listening, continuing to get _baozi_ in her pigtails.   
  
"What did you fight with your parents about, Jisung-"   
  
"Ok, that's enough," Chenle cut in. "C'mon, Jisung and I are just gonna go to my room now, thank you for dinner, mom, it was really good."   
  
"Wait," Jisung said weakly, trying to pull away. "At least let me help clean up."   
  
"I'll clean up later, nerd, now get over here."   
  
Jisung let himself be led to Chenle's room, a bit dubious. "It was really good, thank you Mr. and Mrs. Zhong," he called before disappearing into the hallways.   
  
Chenle eventually brought him to the room furthest to the left, and pushed open the creaking door. Turning the lights on, he faced Jisung with a slightly sheepish expression. "Well, this is my humble abode." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and laughed nervously. "It's not much compared to what I'm sure you're used to, but-"   
  
"No, it's nice," Jisung said quickly. "It suits you."   
  
Chenle shot him a grin, and patted the bed next to him. "I never took you as one to want to make a good first impression."   
  
That's the thing, he usually isn't. He's trained himself to be apathetic by default in most situations, but lately...  
  
"I'm usually not. It's just that...your family is so kind. They treated me like I was family too, and I just...I don't wanna take that for granted," Jisung explained.   
  
"Yeah, I get it. Especially seeing as it doesn't seem like you get along with your family too well."   
  
The position they were currently in seemed a bit too intimate for people that had previously dislike each other not even two days before. But Jisung couldn't really bring himself to care, not when there was someone in front of him he felt comfortable with. There were some people you just...clicked with when you gave it a chance.   
  
It showed in the way that for the first time in years he had felt completely carefree when he was bowling with Chenle, the other aglow with the bright lights of the alleys, and Jisung lighter than the rings of Saturn.   
  
What was happening to him?   
  
"It's kind of difficult to get along with people well when they don't seem to care unless you're about to ruin their reputation," Jisung sulked.   
  
"Care to go into further detail?"   
  
"I used to...I used to be the conventional good student, right? I tried so hard, for years to get their attention, and it's like they didn't even care. They never showed up to my honor rolls, or school plays and the only time they really cared, or payed a shred of attention was when I fucked something up."   
  
"That sucks, Jisung," Chenle sighed. "You don't deserve that, I'm sorry."   
  
Jisung continued to gaze up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. "It does suck."   
  
"You know what the worst part is?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"They said that if I make any more issues for them they'll fucking send me to Korea. Maybe I did this to myself, but I can't help but be a bit hurt I guess."   
  
Chenle didn't quite take his hand. Almost, but not quite. But the feeling of Chenle rubbing comforting circles into his palm was enough.   
  
"I would be hurt too, Jisung. Just...remember there are people there for you, yeah?"   
  
Jisung nodded, and tried to smile weakly despite the wave of misery that engulfed him.   
  
"I'm sorry for coming o-over," Jisung stuttered. "I know we're not that close, and fuck we just stopped fighting yesterday, but I just felt like we connected well, so yeah, I really don't wanna be an incon-"   
  
Chenle chuckled to himself, and pushed at Jisung's shoulder. "Shut up, Jisung, god I might've liked it more when you didn't care so much about what I thought. But...you're not an inconvenience at all. I'm glad you're here. And I know we barely know each other, but it doesn't have to continue to be that way."   
  
The two of them fell silent. The talking from the kitchen had fallen to silent murmurs, and the only noticeable sounds were crickets chirping in the underbrush. Jisung took a quick glance to the other, and wondered whether it was the reflection of the stickers, or if they had always been that bright, and he just hadn't noticed. 

* * *

  
"So you're saying that you, Mr. I don't share with people, spilled your guts to someone you just made up with?"   
  
"Yes, Nana."   
  
"Did your parents finally clone you? Where's the real Jisung?"   
  
And yes, Jisung knows exactly why it's hard to believe. But Chenle and him felt right. Simple as that.   
  
And maybe it's easier because Chenle isn't like the rest of his friends. He's never met his parents, he had never even heard of Jisung's family before his father said something. He's disconnected from the issue, and a light at the end of the tunnel all in itself.   
  
"I asked myself that too," Jisung laughed. "Chenle, and I just clicked, you know?"   
  
Jaemin made an affirmative sound, but fell silent. Jisung had been beginning to wonder whether he fell asleep, when he let out the most obnoxious gasp, and laughed even louder, the phone speaker crackling in his ear. "You like him!"   
  
"W-what? No!"   
  
Jaemin continued cackling into the phone. "Yes, you do, Jisung, you wouldn't have said that much to him- hey, don't curse at me, respect your elders you little shithead! You know I'm right!"   
  
Jisung huffed, and threw himself back onto the bed, not bothering to reply, because the more he resisted the more it looked like he actually had a crush on Chenle.   
  
It certainly planted the seed of curiosity. 

* * *

  
Ok, maybe Chenle was a little bit cute.   
  
And maybe part of the reason he bothered him was because he wanted his attention. Even if he didn't realize it. It would certainly explain the unwelcome change when Chenle stopped snapping at him on a daily basis.   
  
And ok, sure, the first thing he thought about Chenle was that he wanted to boop his nose.   
  
Was he really this dense?  
  
"Hey, Jisung!"   
  
Jisung looked up to see Chenle, and his (very pretty) smile waving at him from the door. The boy ran over on short legs to sling his arms around Jisung's neck from where he was straining to reach across the desk.   
  
And Jisung swears that gentle touch alone knocked his breath out of his lungs.   
  
"H-hey, Lele."   
  
Lele?  
  
Jisung, you dumbass bitch.   
  
His face flushed a soft red as he heard Chenle giggle. Why was that sound cute too, Jisung nearly wanted to have an aneurysm at this point.   
  
"Lele?"   
  
"I- uh- sorry," Jisung finally choked out.   
  
Chenle poked his stomach in retaliation, and let out another one of his tinkling laughs. "Don't worry, it's cute."   
  
With a quick hello to Jeno, Chenle ran off to go man the arcade section.   
  
"Lele?"   
  
"I know I'm an idiot, ok?" Jisung groaned.   
  
"You're whipped, is what you are. Wait till I tell Renjun, and Xuxi that you caught feelings that quick."   
  
"I did not catch feelings." 

* * *

  
The thing is, now that he and Chenle were friends, he did his job even less often than normal.   
  
"Don't steal my damn nachos," Jisung said, as Chenle's fingers inched their way closer to his bowl. He lightly slapped his hand away, Chenle pouting.   
  
"I already finished mine, though."   
  
"Too bad, that's your own fault."   
  
Chenle played with Jisung's fingers and frowned up at him. "But Jisungie..."   
  
He's not going to be this weak. Chenle isn't actually sad, he's just trying to manipulate Jisung into giving him food-   
  
"Only if you tell me more about yourself."   
  
Damn it, Jisung.   
  
Chenle rested his head on his arms, and gazed at Jisung with a curious emotion in his eyes.   
  
"Well, what do you want to know?"   
  
Jisung pondered for a moment, and eventually decided on, "whatever you'll allow. I'd like to know something else besides the fact that you're an annoying menace."   
  
"Well, I moved here from China when I was eight," Chenle began. That explained the cute vocal inflections, and the slight lilt. "My parents thought that they would have a better earning a living, and taking care of us here. And it's true, we're doing better, but I still had to take this job. Not that I'm complaining! I don't mind helping, and the job isn't bad. Plus, it helps that there's a very cute boy that works here," Chenle giggled.   
  
Was he-   
  
Nah, couldn't be.   
  
"I'm glad you guys are more financially stable, it must be a relief."   
  
Chenle simply nodded as the conversation lulled, unoccupied hands tapping a rhythm onto the table and fiddling with the ketchup bottle respectively.   
  
"You said you would give me food now," Chenle reminded hopefully. Jisung scoffed slightly and pushed the plastic basket over to him. "One nacho equals one question answered."   
  
Chenle accepted them gratefully and snatched three in quick succession. "You realize I would answer the questions regardless, right?" Chenle said while munching down. He looked a bit like a very cheerful, if a bit sleepy, chipmunk, and Jisung wanted to hurl himself onto the Dance Dance Revolution device in hopes people would stomp on him.   
  
"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get to know you better."   
  
Jisung Park is a certified train wreck who doesn't watch what he's saying, but at least it made Chenle smile and hide his blush behind his sweater paws. Why the fuck is this kid so soft?  
  
Chenle beamed and lowered his gaze from Jisung. "Well ask away."   
  
Jisung racked his brain for questions, perspiring slightly when he came up with a blank. Talking with people you wanted to like you was much like a nerve racking game of choose your own adventure.   
  
He was very distinctively aware of Chenle's expectant eyes on him, and is he getting more awkward by the minute? Because he thinks he is.   
  
"Who's the cute boy?" Jisung rushed out.   
  
It took every single ounce of willpower in Jisung's lanky, Larry the cucumber shaped body not to slam his head down onto the countertop.   
  
Chenle seemed a little too amused by the panicked look on Jisung's face and leaned over to ruffle his hair. "Maybe if we get to know each other a little better I'll tell you," he teased. He slid off the barstool with an endearing sort of lack of grace and practically sauntered in the direction. He barely turned to call, "That's enough questions for now. I'm gonna be playing Terminator if you wanna join me." Chenle sent him an almost taunting wink and now Jisung was pretty sure he was the cute boy, but he didn't really know what to do about it.

* * *

  
"You will not believe what happened these past few weeks."   
  
He and Mr. Jung had a funny sort of relationship.   
  
He was pretty aware of the fact that Mr. Jung snickering to himself because of Jisung's dramatic antics, but he frankly couldn't be bothered.   
  
Mr. Jung put a rest to working on his files and leaned forward expectantly. "Spill the tea, Jisung."   
  
"Did you just-"   
  
"Isn't that what kids say these days?"   
  
"Emphasis on kids."   
  
Jisung barreled on despite the interruption. "Ok, so, have I ever told you about my manager that I hate? Or rather, used to hate?"   
  
Mr. Jung contorted his face into an expression that said the fuck do you think? "Every tedious detail," Mr. Jung responded.   
  
Jisung scowled for a moment at the unimpressed drawl of Mr. Jung's tone. "You're my guidance counselor, you should be happy I'm opening up. Anyways, I don't hate him anymore."   
  
"So I've been told."   
  
"Well, I kind of-"   
  
"You like him don't you?"   
  
Jisung gawked at his guidance counselor as Mr. Jung practically stole his thunder. "How did you know?" He asked incredulously.   
  
The man rolled his eyes and eased back into his chair with a cocky cross of his arms. "First of all, there's a very fine line between love and hatred and those feelings often get muddled, especially an a hormone and, if my sense of smell serves me correctly, marijuana addled brain such as yours. And you like someone who'll play along with whatever banter you have going and actually listen to you."   
  
"You're not as mysterious as you like to think," Mr. Jung deadpanned.   
  
Jisung let the silence ring for a few more moments. He opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, slightly reminiscent of a fish.   
  
"You've got me there."   
  
"I know I do, Jisung. Now what about it?"   
  
Jisung hesitated, fearing slightly that he was being irrational. "I just...why do I feel like this? Just a few weeks ago I hated him, and now I wanna-"   
  
"I'm gonna cut you off there, mostly because I don't know where you were gonna go with that sentence."   
  
Mr. Jung steeled himself, planting his feet firmly as he squared his shoulders. Jisung recognized this as his I'm gonna lay down some fuckin' wisdom stance.   
  
Mr. Jung began earnestly, "Look, Jisung, it's completely normal to feel this way. Like I said, there's a very fine line between those emotions and it's also ok that you're confused or scared about how quickly they changed. And I'm not sure if it's your natural affinity for complicating things or that you're scared of being in a relationship that's-"   
  
"It's both."   
  
Mr. Jung gave an exasperated, but slightly fond sigh. "Well, either way, it's completely natural, and whether you confess or not, or whether you try to get rid of these emotions or not I will support you, because I trust that you're doing what's best for your well being."   
  
He paused for a moment before continuing. "Well, you can't forcibly get rid of them, so I may as well say, whether you confess or not it's all alright. Having romantic feelings isn't a big deal if you don't make them a big deal."   
  
Jisung had sat there the whole time, nodding along, pondering what Mr. Jung said. "Thanks, Mr. Jung, I think I know what I'm gonna do." 

* * *

  
Maybe Jisung was a bit scared that his feelings weren't real. And that this was the product of his crave for affection. He didn't want to hurt Chenle, but he supposed that suggests that he does, in fact, care about the boy to an extent.   
  
Chenle was a bright, happy go lucky ray of sunshine that loved to steal Jisung's nachos, and the fact that Jisung didn't even mind said something in itself.   
  
His life was going right for the first time in years and Chenle was partly to thank for that. But Jisung was cautious when need be and felt a bit like an inane bull in a China shop around the boy.   
  
But it certainly seemed as if the universe heard his cry for clarity.   
  
The sounds of thunder met their ears every few minutes as did the rain pounding down on asphalt, as the employees of Cherry Bomb, along with their boss, Johnny, all sat collectively in two adjacent alleys. Johnny tapped away on his phone, probably reassuring his boyfriend that he would be home soon as Chenle and Jisung squished together on one ottoman and Jeno and Mark played their nth game of rock, paper, scissors.   
  
Jisung was just glad for the excuse not to go home.   
  
"Do you like the rain?" Chenle asked quietly. The atmosphere in the room was that of which you never wanted to raise your tone above a hushed whisper, as if the whole thing would shatter. At least it was relaxing.   
  
Then again Chenle's general presence was enough to make him tense up not long later.   
  
Jisung hummed affirmatively, posture improving when he sat up ramrod straight at the feeling of Chenle's head in his lap.   
  
That's not good, this is dangerous territory-  
  
Jisung drew in a shaky breath and tried to soften his stance. As a distraction to himself he continued on with the conversation. "It reminds me of the time Jaemin and I stayed up all night playing Life is Strange."   
  
"Jaemin?"   
  
"Best friend, moved to New York."   
  
Chenle nodded as if signaling him to continue. Jisung leaned back on his arms and gazed at the ceiling, a sense of nostalgia washing over him. "It was nice, you know? It felt like a getaway from everything else." Jisung smiled wistfully before adding on,"Plus, everyone knows I'm Pricefield trash."   
  
Chenle's lips parted into a smile at the mention of the characters. "I never actually got the chance to play the game, but I've seen playthroughs. It seems like a good game."   
  
Jisung had an idea that was surprisingly good by his standards and also quite smooth if you take into account that he's a teenager with zero knowledge on how to deal with most humans, much less a cute boy.   
  
"M-maybe you could come over one day to play," Jisung suggested, unsure.   
  
What if Chenle didn't wanna hang out? What if it was a convenience thing? What if Jisung accidently pushed himself on Chenle, oh god-  
  
"I'd love to!"   
  
Well that went better than expected.   
  
"I-is Saturday ok?" Jisung stammered, still slightly in shock about how Chenle answered so vehemently.   
  
The boy in his lap nodded giddily before easing back down onto his lap, burrowing down into a comfortable, if somewhat contorted, position.   
  
Jisung's fears were at least half alleviated. "It'll be nice to have someone to keep me company there for once," Jisung said with a melancholy sort of smile.   
  
Chenle furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to look him straight in the face. "You really don't get along with them do you?"   
  
"You try getting along with the people that neglected you from the ages of five and up," Jisung retorted.   
  
"No, I understand why. It's just sad, I guess."   
  
Jisung scrubbed his face with his hands as if that would take away the oh so obvious sadness that painted his features. "It's fine," he said in hushed tones. "I'm used to it."   
  
"You may be used to it but that doesn't make it right," Chenle said. He then pushed himself up on his arms and transferred himself fully onto Jisung's lap, arms circling his shoulders as he held him close.   
  
"I'll just have to be there for you to try and make up for it," Chenle beamed, practically nuzzling his head into Jisung's neck.   
  
Jisung really thought he had gotten used to how tactile Chenle was.   
  
Silly bitch.   
  
"Y-yeah-"   
  
And then it felt like his whole point of view had been skewered and turned upside down.   
  
Jisung was all too aware of Chenle being about two inches from his face, breath fanning over his lips. And he was really hit with a sense of wow he's beautiful. His eyes were shining brighter than the LED screens that bathed the area in white light and Jisung could pick out every mole and acne scar and little imperfection in Chenle's skin. Then there were his lips. They were so close, maybe Jisung could just-  
  
"It's stopped raining, everyone out!"   
  
Thank you, Johnny.   
  
Jisung startled enough that Chenle was nearly rocked off of the seat and his reaction wasn't much better. Unlike the former, though, Chenle was largely unfazed by what had just happened and departed with his usual sunny grin and wave.   
  
"I need to hurry to help with dinner, I'll see you on Saturday, Sungie!"   
  
"O-ok," Jisung replied weakly, barely lifting his head from where they lay on his forearms.   
  
Jisung dragged himself from the ottoman with all the energy of someone in the geriatric wing and immediately threw himself onto an unsuspecting Jeno.   
  
"I like him a lot," Jisung mumbled into his shoulder as they walked with some difficulty towards the entrance of the bowling alley.   
  
Jeno scoffed at him, having known for quite awhile. Everyone had known for quite awhile. "Yeah, the way you guys were practically making out showed it well enough."   
  
"Jisung, stop I just got this hoodie!" 

* * *

  
"What do I wear?"  
  
"What you would normally wear."   
  
"But what if he doesn't like what I normally wear-"   
  
"Jisung," Jeno interrupted sharply. "He likes you and even the fact that you wear only ripped jeans and hot topic t-shirts won't deter him."   
  
Jisung fell back onto his bed with a muffled thump and a bordering on concerning noise.   
  
Jisung was nervous.   
  
That was an understatement.   
  
It hadn't quite escaped him how much his life had progressed in the past couple of months. He had gone from a lonely deplorable with a chip on his shoulder who's only constant in life was dance to someone with a social life and friends and a maybe more than friend. The first time in awhile he was truly happy when he wasn't dancing.  And Mr. Kim didn't hate him anymore either. So that was a minor plus.  
  
It also didn't escape him how easily he could lose the maybe more than friend and so for the first time in quite awhile he was putting effort into something.   
  
"Ok, ok, I know I'm just...trying my best here," Jisung said.   
  
He heard Jeno make what he assumed was a sympathetic hum from over the line. "Yeah, I get it, just be yourself, dude. He already likes you."   
  
"But what if- oh, shit, gotta go by Jeno!"   
  
Without giving him a chance to respond, Jisung shot up as the chime of the doorbell resounded in the house. The next few moments were a mad dash down to the first story, socked feet skidding across tile as Jisung tried to steady himself in front of the door. He adjusted his shirt (which was no different from about ten seconds ago, but safety first) and waited an additional three seconds so as not to seem as desperate as he actually was, before swinging open the door to reveal Chenle. Chenle with a tupperware of his mom's _char sui bao_  -god he loves Mrs. Zhong.   
  
He ushered Chenle in with a nervous, giddy smile.   
  
"Hey."   
  
"Hi."   
  
Silence engulfed them and, just for a visual, Jisung's mind was reminiscent of that scene in Spongebob where all the little people in his brain were panicking and trying to figure out how the hell to function.   
  
"Now I know you're not the brightest tool in the barn-"   
  
"It's sharpest tool in the shed-"   
  
"Don't interrupt me, I'm the one holding the food. But as I was saying, step up your conversation game," Chenle joked. The boy took a good look around, setting the container down on the front table and promptly let out a loud, "Damn, you rich people live like this?"   
  
Jisung flushed, partly from guilt and partly from the fact that a cute boy was standing right there. He kept his eyes on his shoes as he stuttered and tried to make light of the situation.   
  
Luckily for him, Chenle laughed, "I'm kidding, Sungie, loosen up a bit."   
  
Easy for you to say, you're not the panicked gay with no social skills to speak of.  
  
"I-I'll try," Jisung replied, leading him up the stairs soon after to try and avoid more painfully and excruciatingly awkward interactions. Soon after, he ushered him into his room where his laptop and nest of blankets were waiting. Next to it, was a collection of food that was sure to give them diabetes, but hey he was here for a good time, not a long time-   
  
_I should spend less time on Twitter._  
  
"Not to make you feel awkward," Chenle began as he took a good look around the room. "But your whole house is really nice. I guess being the governor pays off."   
  
"In the financial security way it certainly does," Jisung replied as he plopped down on the bed. Chenle circled around the room, the look of curiosity etched on his face a bit cute. Just a bit.   
  
"Dance trophies?"   
  
Jisung made an affirmative sound as Chenle's fingers danced across the line of awards sat in the corner of his room.   
  
"I didn't know you danced."   
  
"Seven years and counting," Jisung replied.   
  
Chenle quirked an eyebrow at the false bravado in Jisung's voice. "You must be good then."   
  
"I hope I am," Jisung simply says. "Now come on, the game is waiting."   
  
Chenle was soon by his side, thrumming with energy, and gazing excitedly at the screen as he waited for episode two to load.   
  
"I'm so excited! Are you excited?" 

 _Yeah, to see you, cute ass motherf-_  
  
"Definitely, this is one of my favorite games!"   
  
Chenle huddled up to his side and drew a blanket over both of them.   
  
This would be a long night. 

* * *

  
"I can't believe Chloe-"   
  
Chenle cut off with a sniff and hid his face in Jisung's shoulder.   
  
Jisung was well aware of how emotional Chenle was, well at least he figured as much. He just gave off a _I cry when things go even mildly_ wrong vibe. But he hadn't exactly prepared for Chenle crying over the ending.   
  
He hushed the boy and tried not to grimace at the bodily fluids staining his shirt. "It was for the greater good, Lele," Jisung reassured with a...mildly awkward shoulder pat.   
  
Chenle nuzzled deeper into the warmth of his shirt and sighed, Jisung shivering at the puff of breathe. "Fuck the greater good."   
  
"May I remind you that you chose that ending?"   
  
Chenle let out a disgruntled noise and raised his arm only to flick an unsuspecting Jisung's forehead. "Yeah, I have a sense of decency, doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," he grumbled.   
  
With a huff, Chenle turned himself over so that they both lay eagle spread on the bed. The only sounds in the room were soft breaths, the shifting of fabric against fabric, and the low murmurs of indie music as the end credits played.   
  
"You remind me of Chloe," Chenle finally spoke up. "Just a bit more awkward."   
  
"Would that make you Max?"   
  
Chenle thought to himself for a moment before answering. "Nah, I'm more like Rachel. Less of a druggie though."   
  
Jisung wasn't sure if he should bring up the fact that Chloe had obvious romantic tension with both characters. "Well, I'll just take the fact that you labeled me as the best character as a compliment," Jisung finally said.   
  
The atmosphere was comfortable and hushed, mostly spent in silence with the exception of Chenle rearranging himself with his head on Jisung's stomach. Jisung swears he can't go two minutes without physical contact. Not that he minds.   
  
Jisung gave what was meant to be a cursory glance when he felt his breath hitch and his heart climb into his throat.   
  
Moonlight washed over Chenle's face and lit up his features. His face was half hidden by a sweater paw while the other looked distinctly sleepy, the lines of his face slack with exhaustion. The light accentuated every stray strand of hair and made the platinum look like a shock of white, but Jisung really couldn't think of a time he looked prettier. He yearned to run his hands through it, maybe pull him up for a kiss if he was lucky.   
  
Jisung swallowed and gathered his wits. "It's quite fitting that you're Rachel seeing as Chloe always called her an angel."   
  
Jisung Park, maybe you're not so much of a pussy.   
  
Chenle had the gall to look flustered, even though he had spent weeks fucking with Jisung. Pale pink soon anointed his cheeks and he shyly smiled. "You're not so bad yourself Jisung Park."   
  
The energy in the room soon got heavier, slightly flirty as both their heart rates accelerated.   
  
"It's funny that you say that when weeks ago we "hated" each other."   
  
"I never hated you, Jisung," Chenle replied. "It actually made me pretty sad when such a cute boy disliked me that intensely."   
  
Well, if that didn't tug on Jisung's heart strings-  
  
"I'm sorry," Jisung said sincerely.   
  
Their current position was that of Jisung sitting up and Chenle on his forearms, and both of them too close to be considered platonic.   
  
"It's ok, I have you here now don't I?" Chenle said slightly breathlessly, slight accent coming out thicker from nerves.   
  
It's hard to say who initiated, but their lips were soon pressed together, clumsy and soft. It wasn't like in the movies where there's fireworks, it was more like a strong, overlwheming sense of comfort, it fit. Their lips slotted together like puzzle pieces, a hand tangled in someone's hair and an arm wrapped around a waist.   
  
It was perfect in a messy, inexperienced way.   
  
"Jisung Park!"  
  
Fuck.   
  
Jisung nearly leapt away from his counterpart, cheeks still tinged red, and chest heaving from the shock. Chenle wasn't much better, eyes wide with fright and looking anywhere but the couple that interrupted.   
  
"I-I thought that you guys would be gone till tomorrow," Jisung stuttered out.   
  
He was met with his mother's unimpressed gaze and his father's usual apathy, and he felt like he had shrunk down to three inches.   
  
"The business trip ended early," his mother replied coldly. "We'll give you a moment to escort your...friend out."   
  
With a nondescript, apologetic glance at Chenle he pulled at the older boy's arm gently and led him out of what may as well be a lion's den. It was devoid of conversation till they reached the front doors.   
  
"I'm sorry about all this," Jisung said sheepishly.   
  
Chenle let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and rested his head against Jisung's shoulder. "It's alright, Sungie."   
  
Anyone could see Chenle was trying to be positive for Jisung's sake and his facade was cracking. "I-I'll s-see you on Monday, bye, Sung."   
  
Jisung waved and Chenle left without another word.   
  
The door shut with a muffled click and soon after he heard the click of his mother's heels and his father's heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs.   
  
Time to face the Kraken.   
  
Jisung stood ramrod straight with his eyes on them because looking away showed weakness, and his mother didn't raise a little bitch.   
  
Then again, his mother barely raised him in general.   
  
"So," his mother said. "You invited a friend over without asking us?"   
  
Jisung scoffed in disbelief, narrowing his eyes. "That's what we're gonna talk about?"   
  
His mother kept up the same icy exterior, folding her arms and never breaking eye contact. "What else would you want to talk about? The fact that you didn't tell us you were dating, or maybe the fact that you're gay, or really anything by this point. Jisung, we have no idea what's going on with you," she spat. "We've let you do whatever you wanted for years and it's gotten out of hand."   
  
Jisung let out a loud, mirthless laugh, startling his parents as he grew bolder in his anger. "You let me? It's more like you didn't give enough of a shit to stop me. You only started to discipline me when I caused issues for you," Jisung seethed.   
  
The air around them was tense and charged with energy as his mother began to gather her argument.   
  
"It's not proper for someone of your status to act like you do, do you see any of your classmates doing that? And also, you still don't tell us anything, it's like we barely know you anymore."   
  
Was she that dense?   
  
"Did you ever really know me? You obviously don't know my classmates either, because you don't see have the shit they do. They're just more subtle about it than I am because they still give a fuck about what their parents think," Jisung said, shaking with anger.   
  
All their arguments were like this, a cycle, and Jisung had grown used to it, but this time it felt...off. It was more intense.   
  
"And why would I ever confide in either of you? You're never around, you never take an interest unless I've messed something up for you again, and now I'm supposed to be open?" Jisung snapped.   
  
His mother opened her mouth and closed it in quick succession as she realized that she had no good argument, and it would've been humorous if it weren't for how furious he was. He threw himself onto the stiff, decorative couches, and took up a guarded stance as he waited for her to say something.   
  
"W-well," she sputtered, grasping at straws. "Your father and I have worked hard to let you live like this, you should be more grateful."   
  
Oh.   
  
Jisung slammed a fist down on the table, trying not to wince in pain. The startle both of his parents gave was worth it, though. "Financial security is a very small part of what I care about. Has it ever occurred to you how I felt?" He asked, shaky. "Both of you have never even acknowledged anything I've ever done. Did you even know that I got on honour roll every year since first grade? Or that I've ranked top three in multiple dance tournaments? I tried so hard to make you guys proud and it got no response. And so I stopped caring, but it was really only to try and get your attention. It's sad that I could only get either of you to acknowledge me when I'm fucking everything up for you."   
  
Jisung stood up and composed himself, clearing his throat and trying to blink back tears. He pointed a trembling finger at his father, who had the nerve to look affronted. "And you especially. You've barely spoken a word to me since I was a little kid. It's pathetic that I even care what you think anymore," Jisung ground out.   
  
"Jisung, you have to understand, your father and I are very busy. He's the governor-"   
  
He whipped around from where he was stalking up the stairs and nearly cried, "Well, since he's that busy you guys never should've had a kid in the first place." His tears fell freely. Jisung scrubbed angrily at them, not wanting to show any more vulnerability than he already had. "It's becoming increasingly clear you don't seem to want to deal with one."   
  
With that, he went to his room, the sound of the door slamming resounding around the empty house.   
 

* * *

  
Jisung...felt like shit. To put it quite frankly. 

Everything in this house reminded him of his parents or his "status", or, his personal favorite, how much of a disappointment he is.   
  
He had spent the better part of twenty minutes watching his tears fall onto the comforter as he picked at stray threads to pass the time. He tried to restrain himself from straining to hear the muffled words that were being passed between his parents.   
  
So far he could only make out snippets of it.   
  
_You see what he did, Dongsung?_  
  
_He hates us now._  
  
Jisung's heart clenched and he couldn't tell if it was because he wanted to let her know that he didn't hate them or because he felt guilt at the amount of resentment he held towards them.   
  
It was another ten minutes before there was a tentative knock on his door.   
  
"Who is it?"   
  
"It's your father," came a meek reply from behind the door.   
  
After a quick internal debate Jisung hesitantly told him to come in.   
  
His father came in and sat beside him with all the grace of that one kid in middle school that smelled like hotdogs constantly- oddly specific, but it happened. Awkward silence ensued for a few moments before his father finally began speaking. "Jisung, I'm sorry-we're both sorry."   
  
"It's a bit late for that isn't it?" Jisung answered in a hollow tone.   
  
"It probably is. But we are, Jisung. It wasn't right of us to put our professional lives before our personal ones. I'm not going to...try to make excuses for our behavior. We should have been there for you, at all your events or just whenever you needed us there over the years," he said earnestly. "Your mother and I may have messed up, but don't think we don't want you in our lives.

Jisung mulled over his words. He could tell he was sincere, that much was apparent, but his emotions all muddled together into a soup of  _what the fuck._

"I've been telling you guys I've been upset for years, why now?"

His father rubbed his temples tiredly. "When we saw you with that boy and saw you cry...it really hit your mother and I just how much we've missed. We've been so caught up in our work and our reputation that we...well, we neglected our child. Neither of us, especially me, never really thought about how you would feel and we're just-" His father cut off with a choked noise. "We're sorry, Jisung. And we haven't told you this enough but you were a great kid, you still are, and we're proud of you."

Jisung sniffled and wiped his eyes. It was the thought that this was the first time he's heard his father speak this much in years that tipped him over the edge. And the fact that this was the most emotion he's shown around him, well, ever. A look of panic flicked across his father's face while he tried desperately to comfort him. Jisung just gave a watery giggle "There's not much to be proud of, but thanks."  
  
"Stop, you're very intelligent...and...It's admirable how you stick to your beliefs and...well, you essentially went without have suitable guardians for years-"   
  
Jisung gave him a pointed look. "Ok, dad, you better stop before you pop a vein." 

He may be sorry, but Jisung had definitely inherited his austere attitude from his father.   
  
His father let out a relieved sigh before pulling Jisung up. "Come on, you can tell your mother and I about all that we've missed."   
  
"I'm going to warn you, you'll disappointed with the amount of delinquency."   
  
"I figured as much, but if this is the first step to being more involved we'll take it."   
  
Jisung was...optimistic. 

* * *

  
"Jisung, bro, what happened?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"You were like radio silent all weekend and I tried calling Chenle and he wouldn't talk about it."   
  
"Oh, that. Yeah my parents walked in on us."   
  
Jeno's eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. "Did you guys-"   
  
"Walked in on us kissing, nasty ass," Jisung replied. Business was slow today and Jisung was glad because it gave him time to unload everything that happened these past few days.   
  
"Oh." Jeno fell silent. "Did you get in trouble?"   
  
"Actually, no. Well, not really. We fought a lot, but they eventually apologized for not really being there. We talked a lot this weekend."   
  
Jeno's jaw nearly dropped in shock at the information given. "Your parents actually apologized?"   
  
"Trust me, I was surprised too," Jisung said with a grin. "It's nice though. I mean, it's not perfect, it's gonna take me awhile to really kick the years of resentment to the curb, but...It's a start."   
  
"Yeah, I get you, man."   
  
They worked in relative silence for the better part of twenty minutes. Jisung distracedly glanced towards the door every so often to check if Chenle was in yet.   
  
"Hey, Chenle!"   
  
Jisung's neck snapped up so quickly that he was pretty sure he permanently popped his spinal chord out of place, but it's fine. He made his way around the counter and patiently (not really) waited for Chenle to acknowledge him.   
  
"Hey, Sungie."   
  
Chenle stopped when he was directly facing him. "Hey, Chenle," Jisung said meekly.   
  
(Jeno got the picture and went to help Mark at the food counter.)   
  
  
"Y-you seemed upset on Friday so I'm sorry about that," Jisung said, timidly taking Chenle's hand and playing with his fingers to take his mind off the crippling nervousness he was currently feeling. "Well yeah," Chenle laughed. "I was worried about you. I just...didn't wanna see you hurt."   
  
Jisung's heart may have swelled.   
  
"Well, I'm not hurt, it actually...all turned out pretty well. And now it's even better with an angel in front of me," Jisung teased. He thanked Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that he didn't stutter when he said that.   
  
That earned him a blinding smile and a pair of small hands on his waist, pulling him closer.   
  
Life was great. 

* * *

  
"So you got friends, a boyfriend, and managed to get out of counseling in the four months I was gone? And your shitty parents to apologize?"   
  
Jisung pushed at Taeil's shoulders, "You seem the most surprised about my social life, fuck you."   
  
Sicheng snorted and turned to Chenle in fake concern, "Honey, blink twice if you're being held hostage."   
  
Jisung had been initially anxious about them meeting Chenle, but this was going great. Just great.   
  
"Aw, leave them alone, baby, some people just naturally have bad taste- Jisung, I'll end you if you push me again."   
  
"I'm taller," Jisung said.   
  
"Your limbs are also the approximate width of a pencil, I could literally snap you in half," Yuta snarked back.   
  
Jisung had the feeling they shouldn't be doing this in the middle of a busy airport, but he also doesn't have self control, so...  
  
"Taeil hyung wouldn't let you because I'm his favorite."   
  
Taeil made no response and both his boyfriends immediately responded with a resounding  _I'm his favorite._  
  
"It's ok, Jisung, you're my favorite," Chenle said with a grin.  
  
That did make it somewhat more ok.   
  
"Stop being gross, y'all are like two."   
  
"Shut _up_ , Sicheng."

**Author's Note:**

> scream at my on instagram (chittaphattie) and twitter (yukheithere)
> 
> imma be real w u chief I feel like I rushed this at the end and I absolutely despise how it turned out but wtv!!


End file.
